Going To The Movies
by Manchester
Summary: Several chapters done as individual stories for a Twisting the Hellmouth challenge, in writing about Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters appearing in various films.
1. The Slayer's Good Life

Well, you couldn't say she hadn't been warned. Even before coming to Rome, Buffy Summers had been told by Giles and others in the know that while the Eternal City didn't possess a Hellmouth, this millennia-old conurbation had its own special magic, and this could manifest at any time without the slightest warning. Still, after a few weeks here, while she and her sister Dawn were beginning to settle in during their badly-needed vacation after the Sunnydale collapse, Buffy hadn't encountered anything particularly weird of the supernatural type. Until now, that is.

However, on the list of 'Ten Thousand Strange Things Buffy's Gone Through Ever Since Somebody Threw A Really Big Knife At Her Head' (okay, one of these days she'd think of a more concise title), this was a good candidate for the dead-last position. All that'd happened during her Slayer patrol through Rome's alleys had been a faint all-over tingling and then an abrupt flicker in her line of sight, as if the world had suddenly shifted in position.

Buffy warily looked around, but she didn't see anything all that different in the alley. There were the same stained walls, the same cobblestones from the time of the Caesars, the same indescribable smell from the sewers below… In short, nothing. Shrugging, the young woman decided to head for the closest main street and try to find a cafe there open this late at night for a quick cup of coffee and maybe something to munch on. Briskly walking through the darkness, Buffy eventually came out from the alley to find herself across from a very familiar place, all due to her and Dawn's visit there during their first few days in Rome.

Stopping in her tracks to gawk at the magnificence of the world-famous Trevi Fountain brightly lit up well after midnight, Buffy's attention was at once captured by the two people happily wading in the fountain. One of these people up to their thighs in the water was a striking adult woman as blonde as Buffy, but with decidedly much more, um…just _more_ of the tallness and chest sizeness. Firmly squashing the hasty surge of jealousy which had unexpectedly materialized in her mind, the Slayer stared the lady's black dress with its skirt floating atop the water like a lily pad.

In between cattily noting to herself that bimbo over there would be in dire need of a supporting bra in a couple years, Buffy was soon distracted by the hottie in the formal suit also wading in the fountain. Mmmm, she'd like to meet an Italian guy like that herself, even if he clearly seemed besotted by the other woman.

After spending a few minutes watching the pair in the water clearly having fun with the kissing and touching and all, Buffy saw the dark around her was fading into grey. Just when the unknown woman anointed the man's head with water from her hand, Buffy glanced around, to look directly into the rising sun breaking over the city's horizon. Blinking in her suddenly dazzled vision, Buffy felt yet another all-over tingle, and when she glanced back at the Trevi Fountain, she saw nobody there at all.

"What-?" Buffy began to blurt out, gaping at the empty waters. It wasn't possible! There was no way for anyone to get out of there so fast without her noticing, so what the hell just happened? Peering around, Buffy still found nothing to solve this minor mystery among the sounds of Rome beginning to wake up. At last, when her stomach started to noisily growl with real hunger, Buffy exasperatedly threw up her hands in defeat, and she started heading back to their apartment. Maybe while discussing this with Dawn, they could come up with some kind of explanation of what she'd just seen.

Thinking about this, Buffy was sidetracked by finding a now-opened bakery on her way. A happy five minutes later, the Slayer contently carried in her arms several warm paper bags filled with the heat of the many scrumptious pastries she'd just bought for their breakfast. Dawn was gonna love this for sure! Happily heading down the sidewalk, Buffy Summers thought to herself something she'd never dreamed possible after all the tragedies and upheavals of her past few years in a certain California city, that life was _good._

* * *

Author's Note: In case you don't recognize it, the crossover is Federico Fellini's 1960 cinematic masterpiece _La Dolce Vita._


	2. Many Names, But Always Me

"_You_ did this!"

From where she'd been discreetly waiting in a concealing copse of trees several hundred yards away from the roadside accident near by Mannheim, Germany, a startled young woman previously observing this collision between two vehicles snapped her head around to stare at who'd just angrily berated her. Unlike any other pretty blonde girl in a whole country full of them, this supposed human female was in reality a thousand-year-old vengeance demon known as Anyanka.

Gawking at the transparent man wearing a hunting outfit while standing several steps away and glaring in return at her, Anyanka quickly realized she was experiencing for the first time ever something which her more experienced fellow demons had declared to be extremely rare, but still possible. Occasionally, the victim of a vengeance demon's manipulations had both the psychic sensitivity and sheer willpower to move a portion of their soul from their bodies even at the very threshold of death's domain, and then use this to locate and confront those responsible for their terminal situation. Who in this case was a former Viking lass named Aud that long ago caught the attention of a wish-granting dimensional ruler at the utter artistry of her revenge upon a straying husband.

Anyanka's startled mood quickly shifted from astonishment into actual interest. For the past few centuries, she'd been growing increasingly bored over her unchanging task of wreaking vengeance upon people, but here was at present something new and intriguing. Besides, from what her co-workers had also stated, this spirit (for want of a better term) even now eyeing her in sincere wrath couldn't harm Anyanka in any way, much less change what'd just happened to him. Given all this, it was only natural for the woman to indulge herself and speak directly to the spirit:

"Oh, you're right about that. It doesn't matter, though. You might still be alive there-" (Anyanka nonchalantly jerked an indicating thumb in the direction of the accident she'd recently arranged) "-but your injuries will turn out to be fatal, anyway."

When the infuriated spirit started opening his mouth to deliver his surely irate opinion over what he'd just been told, Anyanka overrode him by smugly announcing, "What's more, in a few minutes, you'll return to your body, without remembering anything you learned here. What happens after…well, that's not my problem."

Judging from how the spirit's face then contorted in absolute rage, if he'd really been here in the flesh, a genuine heart attack probably would've taken place. This transparent man's body quivered as if he'd tried to stride forward, only to glance down in abrupt incredulity at remaining immobile and in place. All of this was witnessed by the woman watching him with faint amusement. The spirit looked up at her next sardonic words, "From what I've been told, all you can do now is to yell at me. Frankly, I've heard it all before, even with the cursing and crying, so if you want to go ahead and do that anyway, at least be imaginative about it."

To Anyanka's sudden surprise, the spirit's rugged features shifted into definite consideration, indicating he'd managed to get himself under some sort of control. In fact, the cold, steady scrutiny now delivered by the phantom towards Anyanka was making her a bit uneasy. Which was ridiculous! Even if he'd accomplished the near-impossible, that person was just an ordinary human. He couldn't do anything else-

Anyanka's thoughts where interrupted by the spirit evenly inquiring, "Just who are you, and why'd you kill me?"

Well, that was certainly different. And what she'd been seeking out on an idle whim in the first place, moreover. So…all right, why not?

Giving a dismissive shrug, Anyanka peered around the small copse to make sure there weren't any other witnesses. Fortunately, nobody else had shown up here. In fact, every other person in the vicinity was still concentrated down at the accident site. Satisfied, Anyanka turned back to face the waiting spirit, and she transformed from her human appearance into that of an unearthly monster, expecting the usual disbelief and then terror or some other cowardly emotion of fright.

What an extremely startled Anyanka instead got from the soul-spirit was an unruffled comment casually spoken by him, "I've seen you before. Your kind, I mean, now that I can better remember my past lives." Beginning to tightly grin, the spirit next said in an ever-threatening tone, "Not just that, but when I battled with sword and shield against those other supernatural bastards, I damned well won, one way or the other, taking them with me if necessary!"

Anyanka couldn't help but to unthinkingly take a step back at the air of pure menace issuing from the spirit. Stopping dead in her tracks, the ancient woman's mood turned ugly at realizing what she'd done. Struggling to regain control of their encounter, Anyanka crossly snapped at the prideful phantom, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about, and I don't care! Before you get too full of yourself, _you're_ the one who's dying now, all because you were in the way and no other reason!"

"In the way of what?" the spirit suspiciously asked.

Bestowing her most malicious smile towards that insolent man, Anyanka chuckled, "My vengeance, of course. Early this year during the war, there was a German woman east of here trying to escape with her family from the advancing Russian army. Their refugee column got overrun with the usual consequences for the losers: rape, torture, and murder in all the vilest possible methods. This included the mother who summoned me with her last wish just before she died. Naturally, I granted it, but not exactly the way she wanted. You humans have really got to be more specific as to the how and when. Anyway, I've set my plans in motion, and it's true that the U.S.S.R. will someday pass out of existence. Just not for the next forty or fifty years. In the meantime, there'll be lots of lovely suffering everywhere. I've made sure of it by cleaning up a few minor problems, and you were one of them.

Dismayed at what he'd heard of such evil, the spirit warily ventured, "Me?"

"Oh, yes," Anyanka arrogantly nodded. "It's barely possible, but you still could've managed to start another war with the Russians. I wasn't going to have this, even if it might've been fun to watch, win or lose. No, Eastern Europe will stay firmly under the thumb of Stalin and his successors for the next couple of decades. Take that happy thought with you when you pop back into your broken body."

Indeed, the spirit's transparent form started to flicker, indicating his presence among a smirking Anyanka's company was about to end. Understanding this, the man stood at attention, all while directly sending his grimmest stare towards the creature who'd just condemned entire countries to life under a totalitarian regime just as bad as the defeated Nazis. He growled, "Listen, you bitch, _I don't lose, ever._ Somehow, by some way, I'll remember this and track you down! Then, you'll find out first-hand what a soldier's vengeance is like-"

In the middle of this sentence, Anyanka watched the phantom vanish from sight. Now alone in the copse, she nevertheless sniffed in contempt at a departed shade, "Good luck with that, you silly little man! Oh, I'm so scared!"

Glancing again down the road where a small crowd was gingerly extricating a wounded general from his car, Anyanka sneered into that direction. Exasperatedly shaking her head, the vengeance demon said just before she also magically disappeared, "What's he going to do, be reborn again in a new life, hunt me down, and then kill me?"

Fifty-six years later, one of the First Evil's Bringers stood over the corpse of a young woman this mutilated minion had just chopped in two during the battle for Sunnydale High. Deep inside the awareness of a creature almost completely controlled by an incorporeal entity, the merest speck of another's manifestation exulted in its long-sought victory.

The being known variously as Aud, Anyanka, and Anya Jenkins really should've remembered two things:

First, a dedicated soldier would unhesitatingly pursue their foe to the ends of the earth, wait for however long it took, and finally undergo any possible ordeal in order to defeat their hated enemy.

Second, General George S. Patton _truly_ believed in reincarnation.

* * *

Author's Note: The film _Patton_ ends before the events at the start of this story. In real life, the four-star general was indeed severely injured in a car accident around the Mannheim region on December 9, 1945. While seeming not to be all that serious at the time, the internal damage suffered by this soldier eventually caused Patton's death several weeks later. He was buried in the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial with many others who served in the U.S. Army at Europe during WWII.

Never one to refrain from saying what he thought, Patton hated the Communists and fervently argued the Americans and other free countries should band together to resist, by force if necessary, the Red menace. Since his suggestions also included rebuilding the German army with even those accused of war crimes, his superiors became increasingly annoyed with Patton. This general's death put paid to any such attempts, though it's interesting to wonder just how well Patton would've done against Stalin's armed forces in an alternative conflict, given the Germans themselves rated that tough soldier as the best of their Western military opponents.

Regarding the latter, there's a very readable alternate history novel by Bill Yenne labeled _A Damned Fine War_ concerning this. It's worth looking for, if you can find the paperback. Another work of fiction in the same genre includes an appearance by Patton in Douglas Niles' _MacArthur's War, _only this time he's fighting the Japanese during a military invasion of that country. Since this book's in hardback, it might be easier to locate at your local library.

Oh, by the way, from his own words and writings also quoted in the film itself, Patton was definitely a believer in reincarnation, even going so far as to write poetry about it. This chapter's title is taken from one of these poems.


	3. Some Like It Not

Even now, the irony of it still appealed to him. He, a balance demon, always acted towards the champions of the never-ending war between good and evil in such a manner to keep them _off_ balance. It was fairly easy, really. All Whistler had to do was to dress up in some manner of incongruous attire, say the opposite of what he actually meant, and behave as dismissively as possible towards the taken-aback heroes or heroines.

Confidentially nodding to himself while in the otherworldly dimension of the Powers That Be, Whistler glanced down at his current costume. He had to admit, a full-dress army uniform of a Confederate colonel was sure to totally mystify the latest young girl who was about to become the next Slayer in this modern year of 1929. Even better was the heavy Southern accent, which he'd been working on for weeks, only to finally succeed in perfecting what several Warner Brothers cartoons a generation later would characterize as nothing other than a dead-on Foghorn Leghorn speaking style. That, combined with the usual enigmatic hints, was sure to set the latest superhuman teenager into the proper path for the remainder of her extremely short life.

A sudden quiver rippled throughout the pocket universe around Whistler, signaling Sineya's spirit had just passed onto its newest victim- Er, _recipient, _that is. Giving an approving twirl of his grey handlebar mustache, Whistler vanished, now on his way to thoroughly bamboozle some gullible kid lower in the mortal plane.

However, things certainly didn't come to pass as this balance demon expected. At all. The first clue for Whistler was the half-dozen tough guys lying unconscious on the floor of some building.

Unknown to this fiend, a mob leader and his henchmen about to rub out the sole witnesses to a Chicago massacre had just managed to pick the worst time ever to at last catch the guys they'd chased to Miami. It'd been quite a surprise to Spats Colombo and the rest of his Italian crew over learning exactly how those idioti had evaded them for so long. Still, less than a minute ago, the joke was going to be on the two…persons about to get taken for their very last ride by the gangsters menacingly advancing towards a terrified duo standing at bay back-to-back in their best outfits.

At that exact point, Joe and Jerry both in their heavy makeup and dowdy dresses as part of their scheme to disguise themselves by joining a woman's band then simultaneously shuddered in their high heels. An instant later, those musicians now having truly evil grins on their faces brought up two pairs of clenched fists, and unexpectedly launched themselves at their enemies. Naturally, the fight was over quickly, with Spats and the others getting thoroughly pummeled into dreamland.

Standing proudly over the insensible bodies of their foes, a victorious Joe and Jerry then had something even weirder happen to them, besides just getting four times stronger and faster than they'd ever been in their whole lives. From behind the dress-wearing men, a loud voice bellowed, "OH, NO, YOU DON'T!"

Spinning around (while keeping themselves from falling over in their wobbling women's shoes with the expertise of much recent practice), a saxophone player and a double-bass player gaped in tandem at the stranger there who'd somehow appeared from out of nowhere. Plus also for his own bizarre reasons, this newcomer was at the moment wearing the garments of a high-ranking Civil War rebel, all while looking straight up at the ceiling with an exceedingly furious face. Ignoring how Joe and Jerry were still gawking at him, that other guy screamed upwards, "I WON'T DO IT, I TELL YOU! NOT FOR SOMETHING THIS RIDICULOUS! I'M CALLING IN EVERYTHING YOU OWE ME! CHANGE IT ALL, OR FIND YOURSELVES ANOTHER FLUNKY!"

Nobody moved in the room for the next few seconds, until the man irately staring upwards abruptly relaxed, while giving an annoyed grunt which yet had a measure of satisfaction in this. It was then that Joe started to cautiously say, "Say, uh, mister-"

After bringing down his gaze, this addressed stranger impatiently shook his head while glowering at the two men in their women's clothing. A gruff voice addressed them both, "Don't bother, you're not gonna remember anything. Everything will go back to the way it was two minutes ago before they caught you, which is all that long you've got to start running. Just get the hell out of here, will you?"

This time it was Jerry who blurted, "But what's going on?"

"One minute and thirty seconds!" snarled the other man, who then added, "You really want me to tell those stiffs on the floor which direction you went when they wake up? BEAT IT!"

Glancing at each other in sheer bewilderment, Joe and Jerry next looked down at where Spats and his boys sprawled limply in their battered condition, all caused by two guys who'd just made those dangerous criminals even madder at them. Without a word, the musicians then sprinted in unison for the building door, showing a genuinely impressive turn of speed even in skirts and women's shoes.

Giving one last baleful look at the absurd scene before him, Whistler vanished, leaving behind a final grumpy comment hanging in the empty air, "Not even a Hellmouth could be worse than this!"

* * *

Author's Note: If you really have to be told, the crossover's with Billy Wilder's hilarious cross-dressing screwball comedy from 1958, _Some Like It Hot._


End file.
